Titans 14: Interlude at the Drake's
by Bumpkin
Summary: Conner dropped in on Tim to find out why he wasn't wearing the Robin suit anymore, what if he hadn't left before meeting the reason?


AN: I really thought that there was so much more that they could have done with the scene in Issue 14 when Conner confronted Tim after scouring Gotham for him. And yes, I know that there have been some other author's well done takes on the way that this scene should have gone, but with the ham-fisted way that DC has been handling the characters lately – I don't think that another will be amiss. And yes, the first bit is pretty much lifted right from the comic, but I wanted to set the mood and move into my section seamlessly. :-)

PS: Remember ppl, FDK keeps the muse of your authors happy and productive... just a thought to keep in mind ;-)

Titans 14: Interlude at the Drake's (What if Conner Hadn't Split When Tim's Dad Came to the Door?)  
By Marns AKA Bumpkin  
Rated: PG-13

"Dude, your CD collection kinda sucks. Depeche Mode and _Enya_?" Conner said snarkily from his casual pose on the floor of Tim's room.

Tim snatched the questionable CD out of Kon's hand and said with a wry smile, "It was a gift." Then he sighed as the lighter moment passed and asked heavily, "What are you doing here Conner?"

"You mean _how_ did I find Tim Drake? Do you know how many Drakes are in the Gotham area? I've been perched on a gargoyle all night sifting through the voices in Gotham. I've never heard so many people whine in my life. Is _anyone_ happy here?" Conner didn't turn to face Tim as he spoke. He only looked at his friend from the corner of his eye from where he was still kneeling on the floor.

"I am." Tim's soft answer made Conner want to shake his head. He should really have expected that answer. Tim was one of the bat-clan after all it went without saying they would be happy in Gotham; it was their turf after all. Conner was tired of playing word games. He was tired of pussyfooting around the subjects he really wanted to ask Tim, so after he rocketed to his feet and spun to face his friend, he demanded with spread hands. "Why didn't you show at the Tower yesterday? And what's with this new Robin? The girl?"

Tim looked away, like he was afraid to meet Conner's eyes. "Last week my dad found my costume. He found out that I was Robin and he went a little... overboard. I've been wanting to tell him for months anyway..."

Conner interrupted Tim before he could say much more, "He seems totally relaxed now. His heart rate is normal and..." It was Tim's turn to cut his friend off in mid sentence.

"I quit."

"You what?" Conner's eyes bugged wide with shock. He _did_ not hear what he thought he just heard.

"I'm not Robin anymore. I gave it up." Tim said as he stared at his wall, still not able to look Conner in the eyes.

"Why?"

Conner was confused. This didn't sound like Tim, not really. Tim wasn't a quitter. He was the one who kept everyone else going. Normally out of shame or some strange sense of pride because if Robin, the non-powered one of the group, could keep going then all the metas should be able to keep up without a problem – right?

"I never liked living two lives. I never planned on doing it for this long and I never wanted to lie to my dad. Now I don't have to anymore." Tim partly sounded like he was trying to convince himself, Conner thought and for the other part he sounded almost... defeated.

Ok yeah, maybe Conner had known that there was some things that had been bothering his friend for a while now – but to give up being Robin? To give up being able to help people, he just couldn't see Tim voluntarily doing that, not now at any rate. He protested,

"Come on. You can't do this to the Titans. That girl isn't... she's not Robin!"

Tim finally turned to face Conner, the expression on his face pained. "I'm not _doing_ this to anyone Conner. I just want to try and live a normal life for once. I want to spend time with my Dad while I can." He sighed and continued. "In a few years I'm going to go off to college. I don't know what I'm going to be yet, but I'm going to make my Dad proud. Besides, Gotham still has a Robin."

It was Conner's turn to look away and not meet his friend's gaze. "So you approve of this new Robin? You want her to be in the Titans?"

"I don't have anything to do with it, but she's a strong young woman – she really is." Conner wondered if Tim knew how much he sounded like a salesman just then, but didn't say so. He knew that if he did Tim would be less than pleased, though it didn't stop the distaste that he felt for the girl from creeping into his voice when he asked,

"It's your ex-girlfriend isn't it? Spoiler or whatever she used to call herself?"

Tim's voice dropped into the old Robin register as he said, "Let it go."

'Damn,' Conner thought, 'Tim didn't ever really need the mask to be one scary freak-job, did he? It was all him.' Trying not to let how easily Tim had cowed him show Conner disputed, "You're my best friend Tim, how can I? The Titans aren't the Titans without Robin – they just aren't..."

"Just because I'm not wearing a cape doesn't mean we can't hang..." Tim's voice had softened as his words petered out lamely. He knew how things went, 'out of sight, out of mind' was a cliché because it was true. He'd been in the game for a long time, longer than Conner had truth be told.

"It won't be the same. I've heard that from too many friends – friends I never talk to anymore..."

Conner never got a chance to finish what he was saying because Jack Drake knocked at the door and before Tim could say anything pushed it open saying lightly,

"Tim, opening credits are rolling..." Jack fell silent when he caught sight of Conner's back. Conner could see in the reflection of the room's one window how the expression on his face went from being pleasantly amicable to hard and bitter in an instant. "Tim? What is going on here? And you – " Conner's shoulder's tensed at the accusatory way Tim's father was addressing him. "Yes, you in the black shirt – who the hell are you and how in the hell did you get in here?"

"Dad, this is..." Tim's eyes met Conner's with a question clear in them, the silent bat-clan communication clear enough for even Conner to read in this case. 'How do you want to play this – teammate or friend?' Conner quirked his lips into a wry little smile and shrugged as he grabbed the lead from his friend. He turned so that the famous 'S' symbol of Superman's was visible to Jack Drake, then he paused for a moment to let it's ramifications sink into the older man's head before striding forward blithely with a hand extended. Jack made no move to take it. Conner let his hand drop as he shook off the sting of the rebuff and continued blithely. Channeling Clark in his best 'Kansas manners style' Conner introduced himself.

"Who I am, sir, is Kon-El or Superboy – whichever you prefer – and I am one of Robin's former teammates. First from Young Justice and later from the Titans, but more importantly I think is that I am also one of Tim's best friends." Conner threw a glance Tim's way and was amused to see that his friend looked a bit shocked at Conner's eloquence. Truth be told, Conner was feeling a bit stunned himself at the surprisingly glib way all that had rolled off his tongue. He wasn't normally that able under pressure – as past experiences they had been through had borne witness. Of course that's when his old self came rushing back to the forefront as he said cheekily, "And as for how I got in here? How else does Superboy get anywhere? I flew."

Tim groaned and Conner soon figured out that it was more than his flip attitude at the last there that had his friend bothered when Jack Drake's face went... magenta.

"Teammate? Young Justice? Teen Titans? Tim, what is this mini-superman here talking about?" Conner bristled, he might be a clone, but he was no damn mini-me of Clark's! Tim must have sensed Conner's rising anger because he just shot Conner a look to chill. Jack was oblivious to the undercurrents in the room, he just kept on blathering away. "Those journals of yours that I found never mentioned anything about any teams that you belonged to -"

Tim interrupted,

"Dad, first of all – those journals you found while you were on your little quest to find out just who 'Timothy Drake' really was – they aren't mine. I keep telling you that! The damn things were a practical joke, albeit one in very bad taste and timing as it turns out. Unfortunately – for several reasons – I hadn't yet gotten a chance to get rid of them when you decided to get all responsible and parent-like and toss my room looking for... god knows what. The stupid 'journals' didn't say anything about the teams I belonged to because of the simple fact that the person who wrote them didn't like my being on those teams." Tim said this in a positively icy tone and, if Conner wasn't mistaken, through tightly gritted teeth. Conner was sure he could clearly hear the enamel of his friend's molars groaning under the stress they were being put under.

Jack really seemed to take offence at Tim's slur on his parenting skills. Jack was practically snarling as he said, "The reason I 'tossed' your room – as you call it Tim – was because I found out that you had lied to me. You came home all the time with strange bruises and injuries but I never questioned them, did I? Not with the easy excuses you fed me if I happened to ask. Then when you came home with that huge shiner, I accepted your excuse about footballs tryouts so easily, didn't I? Trying out for football, it made perfect sense to me that you would get a bit banged up. You played me Tim, and you wonder why I got so mad? You know how I feel about football. You knew I would be proud that you had tried out, and you used that to deflect me from asking more about that black eye. Too bad you never took into account the possibility that I might talk to the Coach." Tim opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but his father continued before he could.

"God y'know - I was so happy that you were interested in football. It was finally something that I could share with you. I didn't even care that you didn't make the team. But, of course, since you never actually tried out I guess it isn't something for us to share after all. Just like the rest of your life, right Tim? Every time we turn a corner lately we seem to uncover more lies, and even more secrets hidden by those lies. Are there many more? Fair warning is all I ask – it would be nice to be able to prepare, at least a little." The bitterness in Jack Drake's voice was physically palpable and Conner wanted to flinch away.

'Yeowch!' Conner could see why Tim had just dropped out of sight and hadn't contacted anyone, if this was the reception that they would have been greeted with. This so wasn't his scene and he wasn't really what you could call a particularly sensitive guy.

Tim, in the meanwhile, hadn't said anything in his own defense. His face was a carefully arranged blank mask, not letting anything through. Unless you knew him, that is – if you knew him at all, you could see he was fuming and at the edges of his control.

Conner frowned, readying his TTK just in case. Goading Tim into rage really wasn't the smartest thing Mr. Drake could do, didn't he realize that if Tim lost it he could easily be lethal? Conner was really beginning to think that he should have made a quick exit when he heard Tim's dad at the door. He was uncomfortable in the middle of this type of situation. Talk about alien, Rao. He had no family, not in the conventional sense, and so he had nothing in his personal experience to compare this scene to.

The only saving grace at the moment was that, as far as Conner could tell, both Tim and his father seemed to have forgotten he was there. Okay, maybe not Tim. Tim would never forget who was in the room with him and where they were - he was just too well trained for that. Jack on the other hand was a different story, he very well could have totally forgotten about Conner's presence in the room with all the emotional stuff flying around.

Jack Drake was glaring angrily at his son. To Conner it looked almost as if Jack was trying to stare Tim down or into submission or something like that. Tim didn't move or change his expression at all. He stood like some kind of statue. His eyes narrowed as they met his father's. His gaze held steady and relentless, boring into his father's glare until Jack couldn't take it anymore. He began to shift uneasily on his feet and finally he had to look away.

Conner had to bite the inside of his cheek to stifle the laugh that wanted to surface as he watched the byplay. Jack never had a chance and Conner knew it. After all, if Tim as Robin could unnerve master criminals, why should his father be immune? Though the battle of wills seemed to have grounded Tim again. He wasn't nearly as angry as he had been before his father's pitiful attempt at domination. 'Probably because it was almost like working with the Bat again,' Conner thought with a mental snicker.

"If there are still secrets Dad, it's because you never gave me a chance to explain, did you? I tried, but you weren't going to listen to anything that I had to say. Not then and it seems, not now. You just told me what I was going to do and how I was going to obey or there would be consequences." Every word Tim used sounded carefully chosen and was delivered in a curiously detached and clipped manner.

Jack began to bluster angrily and Tim cut him off acerbically, "God Dad, you wondered why I didn't think that you would talk to the Coach? Why the hell would I when you have never talked to anyone at any of my schools before? Or, for that matter, really had anything to do with my life – prior to your waking from the coma that is?"

Tim sighed. He looked exhausted but not in a physical sense. In a quiet matter-of-fact tone Tim continued, "Think about it Dad, really think. Before the kidnapping and everything that went with it, mom's death, your coma and waking – what kind of parents were you then? You and mom would think nothing of jetting off around the world at a moment's notice, leaving me alone at home with the housekeeper. And if you were at home, you weren't exactly there for me then either, were you? You were always busy, hosting a party or going to one – networking for the business. I had to be a good little Timmy and stay out of everyone's way. Unless, of course, I needed to be seen as your token child by some client, the one that completed the cast of your perfect little American family. Face it Dad, you and Mom were crappy parents."

"We might not have been around that much Tim, but at least we never put you into danger – not like..."

Tim laughed darkly, "God, you really have no clue. You read those phony journals and think you know all there is to know about me, but you don't. You know nothing. Here's a heads up Dad, I was Robin _before_ Mom died. Another tidbit that you refused to hear before when I tried to tell you – Batman didn't recruit me, I volunteered. I figured out who Batman and Robin were under their masks when I was nine and then I went to talk to them when I was thirteen because – er..." Tim briefly blushed as he remembered his youthful insistence that Dick had to go back to being Robin. "Well, lets just say I had some strange ideas back then."

Tim cleared his throat, and his one hand fidgeted. 'Uh-oh,' Conner knew the signs, Tim was going to ask Jack a hard question. "And Dad, could you honestly say that you would have gone to the Parent-Teachers Conference Day thing if you hadn't lost all your money and the company? Wouldn't I still be at Brentwood and you would still be off doing whatever with Dana?"

Jack Drake was obviously taken aback. Conner guessed Tim had cut pretty close to the quick with both his revelations and accusations. Jack visibly deflated from his previous self-righteous stance of puffed up anger. In a small voice he asked, "You were Robin before Janet died? You figured out who they were when you were nine? How? Where did you train? I'm sorry, this is just so hard to take in..."

Conner was stunned as well. He was learning all sorts of things today about Tim that he never knew before. Like, he knew that Tim was smart, but figuring out one of the best-kept secret identities on the planet when he was _nine_? Whoa. Very impressive Timbo. Conner couldn't even figure out the 'who, what, how or why' of a mystery novel before he got to the last page.

Conner now understood why Tim didn't mind fading into the woodwork, or that he was so good at it. Tim would actually prefer it in all likelihood. After the way he had been raised unnoticed in the background, being thrust into the limelight must be almost painful to him.

Conner's respect for Tim positively mushroomed. Joining a team must have been hard enough for the solitary by nature Tim, but he had ended up leading Young Justice too. It was a responsibility that had made him the focus of everybody's attention. His team first and foremost, then it also made him answerable to a number of the older heroes. Which was not something Conner ever wanted to deal with, the older generation gave _him_ the willies. He didn't know how the younger, less experienced Tim had managed to deal with them, really he didn't.

Heck, leading Young Justice had thrust Tim into the general public's eye. Dealing with his caped peers must have been bad enough, but having to speak publicly would have positively made Tim's skin crawl. Now he knew why Tim was never one for public speaking of any kind.

Which is basically what Tim had been doing the entire time he'd been talking to his father in front of him, Conner belatedly realized. Tim had known that he was there the entire time so, 'he wanted me to know all that stuff. Huh, go figure.' Conner guessed that his unexpected appearance might have been a trigger for a much-needed conversation between Tim and his father. One Jack had been avoiding, it sounded like, until Conner's presence had forced the issue.

Who knew? Maybe after Jack Drake had some time to sit and think about a few of the things that his son said, the real Robin would fly again. Far-fetched, yes – but still, it was a possibility. Conner was allowed to hope, right? At the moment though, no one was saying anything and Conner was beginning to find the atmosphere in the room oppressive. He had to break it, get things moving again – himself at the very least, if nothing else. Leaving now might be the better part of valor anyway, he thought, now that they were talking.

"Sooo..." Both Drakes looked at him, "I was just thinking that I should um, y'know, go. 'Cause it looks like the two of you have a lot to talk about and all that and I can always come back later and talk to Tim..."

"Why _are_ you here, Superboy – er, Kon? What was so urgent that it would prompt you to fly all the way here and into my son's window, rather than using the door like an ordinary person?" Jack asked almost civilly, the sarcasm mostly limited to the unauthorized entry method. "Other than, of course, the obvious – Tim's retirement from your oh-so-illustrious ranks."

'Okay, that last bit was just plain snide you assho-' Conner started inwardly. Then he snapped, "I am _so_ sorry that my presence here has upset your narrow little worldview Mr. Drake, sir, but when my friend never showed up at the Tower like he was supposed to last weekend I got a little worried. It's a concept that you might have heard of...?" The belligerence Conner felt was evident in every sarcastic word

"Kon –" Tim barked and Conner automatically backed down. 'Damn, I'm going to have to apologize.' Conner hated doing that. Jack, meanwhile, looked like he had some issues of his own to deal with. He had undeniably jumped in surprise at the tone of command in his son's voice, though Conner was more than a bit familiar with it. He now also looked a bit shell-shocked at the way Tim seemed to take command of the room with just the force of his personality. Kon decided to bite the bullet, so to speak,

"I'm sorry sir, that was uncalled for and rude of me. Can you forgive me?"

"Er," Jack looked over towards his son and Conner followed his gaze. Tim's eyes were boring into his Dad. Conner had to stifle a snicker, 'Yep, you had no chance pal.' Jack's eyes dropped to the floor and Conner had to scramble to compose himself. Thankfully, he'd succeeded by the time Jack turned back to face him.

"Look, Kon was it? I should be the one to apologize. I was way out of line and rude to boot, you just reacted to how I started. Think you can forgive me?"

Conner eyed the man warily for a few moments, but then after a quick glance at Tim made up his mind. He shrugged carelessly and said, "Why don't we just start over?" He stepped forward for a second time with his hand held out again as he said with forced cheer, "Hiya, Mr. Drake. I'm Kon, a friend of Tim's. Pleased to meet you."

This time Jack didn't shun the proffered hand, but reached out and shook it firmly as he said, "Hello Kon, it's always a pleasure to meet friends of Tim's."

Once the civil introductions were over with, an awkward silence fell in the room. Conner was again thinking of taking off when Tim suddenly said, "Hey, um, Kon – my dad and I were going to watch a movie before you showed up. Lots of gratuitous violence, unrealistic fight scenes, and scantily clad females galore – light on anything that might resemble a plot or reality. Would you maybe want to join us?" He turned to his father, "I mean – if that's okay with you, Dad?"

"Sure. I mean, it's fine with me Tim and, umm..." Jack rubbed one hand over the back of his neck and looked embarrassed. "Hell, if you and Kon want, he can stay the night. Get some things sorted out, tie up some of the loose ends I wasn't aware of from when you quit your, er – 'night job' Tim. What do you boys think?"

Conner thought about it for all of five seconds before he grinned. Of course he would have to call the Kents to get permission, but he didn't think that was going to be a problem. Now he just had to find a phone to use to make the call. He couldn't just use the house line. It wasn't secure and it was traceable...

"Kon, catch." Tim called tossing him a nondescript cell phone. "Disposable, pre-paid minutes, just pitch it when you're done. No worries." Kon arched an eyebrow at his friend while Tim's dad just looked confused. It figured that Tim would have anticipated Conner's needs before he had even fully realized them himself.

"I have to call my foster parents and get permission to stay Mr. Drake, but because Tim's not Robin anymore there are... security issues. For their safety's sake, not mine." Conner explained. Jack still seemed a bit confused, but Tim, losing patience, shoved Conner bodily out the window saying,

"Sheesh, just go fly away and call already – secure line is auto dial one – we'll have all night to explain."

"Tim, my God! Wha-?" Jack's outcry of horror at his son's seemingly murderous action hung in the air, as he stared in open-mouthed amazement at Conner doing the same thing, just outside the window. Conner bit back the laugh trying to escape him at what he could see of Jack Drake's face. He could literally swear that poor Jack's eyebrows were trying to physically meet his hairline in his astonishment. Conner couldn't totally suppress it, he grinned. Even if Tim was Jack's son, the man had to realize he lived with the kid who used to be Robin – the boy wonder sidekick to Batman and one of the urban legends of Gotham. But the sight of a flying kid impressed him? He really was provincial, wasn't he?

After yet another uncomfortable silence Jack Drake said, "Listen I'm going to head downstairs and watch the movie while the two of you figure out what's going on. Come down and let me know whatever happens, okay?"

Conner waited until he heard with his super-hearing that Jack Drake had settled on the couch before he addressed Tim again. "Tim, I'm sorry that I just appeared here like this and dragged up all this bitterness between you and your Dad – but I didn't know what else to do. I need your help."

Tim frowned. "My help? With what?"

Conner drifted back into Tim's room but didn't land. "Vic is all militant about getting the lot of us tested – you know the whole blood work-ups type thing – after half the Titans got munched on by Brother Blood and then all of us got dunked in that groddy pool of his. Well, Vic wants to make sure that no one caught anything nasty from either."

Tim made a faintly disgusted face, "God Conner, you have such a way with words at times, you know that?" Conner just shrugged, he got the point across clearly enough, didn't he?

"Anyway as I was saying, Vic was all set to drag the lot of us over to the hospital for testing, but I kinda flipped out on him. Said that I had someone to handle it. That's when I took off and just flew straight here looking for you. And who did I find when I got here, but that poser chick in a Robin suit." Tim frowned at the slur aimed at the new Robin and Conner wanted to smack him. He just wasn't getting it.

"Dude, you and only one other mystery person know why I can't let just anyone have access to my blood. Think, the whole 'fifty percent chance of me losing all my hair cause of genetics' thing. On the roof that day after the scuffle with the Justice League, you said that you would always be there for me, right? Well, I'm collecting on that promise, pal. This would qualify as one of those times." Then almost as an afterthought he added, "Plus, seeing as Vic is making the rest of us get tested from the Brother Blood thing, just in case, you should probably do a screening on yourself as well. Right?"

Tim sighed, "Just call the Kents Conner. Find out if you can stay the night, and if you can we'll go visit a doctor friend of mine tomorrow. She's actually the official doctor of the bat-clan and so I think she'll have no problems with letting me use her stuff. Fair enough?"

Conner smirked as he dialed. He should have known that Tim would know who his foster parents were – the guy did know who Superman was, after all. Sitting back and reclining on air, Conner smiled contentedly. This could actually work out... even with Tim being a civilian now. Tim's dad didn't seem to overly mind him hanging around – at least that's the way things were shaping up. Plus, if Conner ever needed help from Tim – because there was no way Conner was going to accept that _girl_ as Robin, Tim would just have to deal – well, those skills were all in his head. Tim wouldn't need Daddy's okay to use them, would he? Yes, maybe Tim had been right – just because he wasn't in the cape anymore didn't mean they still couldn't hang together.

There was a click on the phone as the other end was picked up. "Hello?"

"Ma? It's me. A friend of mine has asked me to watch some movies and spend the night, may I? Location is City code..."

The End.


End file.
